whisky
by velociraptorVENOM
Summary: And every invitation to dinner, drink, let off some steam, was met with a dial tone and later mutterings of a dropped call. D59 one-shot.


Dino sees texting as a convenience, a way to send short messages between meetings or even to communicate across the table _during_ meetings, his texts are short and choppy and use too many abbreviations. He only uses texting when he doesn't have time to sit down and call the person properly. He's always believed in tone meaning everything, prefers face-to-face talks because tone and body language and the look in their eyes says so much more than their words ever would.

Gokudera sees texting as a necessity. He takes longer to send them unless he's getting heated, because his messages are long and have every word properly spelled and he has to get out every single thing he wants to say (sometimes he'll even send a follow-up text a few seconds after the first, with hasty additions). Dino has complained to him about it before, because really it would be easier to read all that in an email if he's going to be so long-winded about it, does he realize how much a pain it is to scroll through a six-page text? Gokudera's response is always the same, "If you hate it so much just call me when you need something."

Except he's _tried_ calling Gokudera. The boy is pissy and impatient and his tone says a million things Dino doesn't want to hear. The call is always over quickly, whenever the phrase 'just to talk' comes from Dino's lips it's like he's summoned the Antichrist, because _how dare he_ waste time with small talk when there are more important things to do. And every invitation to dinner, drink, let off some steam, was met with a dial tone and later mutterings of a dropped call.

It was with clear mind and only half a glass of whisky into the night that Dino took several minutes to send a single text to the second most contacted number in his phone behind Romario, the one and only Smoking Bomb and self-proclaimed right hand to Vongola's Neo Primo (Tsuna had still neglected to make it official after years, clueless as he was to his Storm Guardian's suffering).

It was _two in the fucking morning_, as Gokudera made clear to his audience of one feline when his phone vibrated on his bedside table where it was plugged in. He wasn't sleeping, of course, he had work to do, there was always work to keep him up into the early hours of the morning, and if there wasn't then he found work, but even if he preferred passing out on his desk to staring at the ceiling for hours, 2 am was an ungodly hour to try to contact someone unless it was an emergency.

And it was only because it _could_ be an emergency that he checked his phone at all, and cursed loudly when he saw the name on his screen. Had he forgotten how to calculate time zones—?

But Dino wasn't in Italy. He was right here in Japan, in the same goddamn city if Gokudera wasn't mistaken (he wasn't, he'd started making a point of knowing when Dino was nearby; the Bronco was more of a nuisance the closer he got). Brimming with anger, he about threw his phone at Uri, but her preemptive yowl stopped him, and he opened the message with a huff instead.

When he read it, he had to physically stop himself from throwing the phone again.

_— I know you're still awake. Can I come over?_

What right did fucking _Dino_ have to say something like that? He didn't know shit. …Except Gokudera _was_ still awake, and wasn't sure he'd get to sleep any time soon, which was… something.

He stared at the phone for a full two minutes, angrily, as if daring it to go off again. When it didn't, he reread the message before typing a quick, harsh reply.

_— Bullshit. Who stole your phone and taught it to spell?_

The glare didn't leave his face for the minute and a half it took before his phone vibrated again, still in his hand as he sat on the edge of his bed, and he was no less irritable in opening the new text.

_— thought u'd respond btr_

Oh. There was the garbled language Gokudera was used to. His tensed muscles loosened a bit, but he kept his displeased look on principle (even though Dino couldn't actually see it, sometimes it felt like if he looked angry enough it would get through). The next texts came in quick succession, Gokudera hardly taking his eyes off his phone during the conversation.

_— If you're dying you should go to the hospital, not come here. I'm low on bandages._

_— not dying. want 2 tlk._

_— Are you drunk?_

_— no, cmg now_

When the final text came through, Gokudera stared at it for a moment, considering a flat refusal before his fingers moved on their own.

_— Fine._

No use refusing Dino anyway, when he decided something he did it. Probably a side-effect of being taught by Reborn for so long.

"Annoying bastard," Gokudera growled, tossing his phone aside and leaning back on his hands, though still the only one to judge his actions was the cat perched on his pillows, who only offered him a yawn. "Oh, shut up."

And just that quickly, there was a knock. He jumped, staring in the general direction of the front door in bewilderment. "You've gotta be kidding me." Had that fucker been on his way the whole conversation?

Yanking his door open in a huff, Gokudera realized too late that he was still wearing his suit from the work day (which had ended six hours ago for even the most dedicated Vongola members), and Dino's face said he had expected exactly that. But it also broke into an easy grin almost immediately, and Gokudera _hated_ that, so he tried to slam the door again. Dino was too quick, managed to push back with a smile and step inside, letting the door shut heavily behind him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Gokudera immediately snapped, suddenly on the defensive all over again.

"Well, you out of that suit, to start with."

He gaped a bit, staring at Dino like he'd grown an extra head, honestly not comprehending what he'd just heard— until Dino realized what he had said and colored a bit in embarrassment. "Get your mind out of the gutter. I just mean you need to sleep in a real bed for once. You wouldn't get so many headaches if your pillow wasn't your desk. But hey, whatever it takes."

The boy — a man now, but a fiery enough resistance to change could make anyone seem youthful forever — seemed to consider the words a moment, a bit uncomfortably, before answering. "…I don't see why you had to come all this way to say that. Could've texted that much. Hell, could've called."

"You wouldn't have listened."

Gokudera scoffed, as if to say 'I won't listen now,' but Dino had hope when he moved to the kitchen anyway, reaching into a cupboard to pull out a familiar-looking bottle. "Whisky still your poison?"

"Yeah." He smiled warmly as he watched Gokudera pour two glasses and sit down at his small dining room table, shoving the slightly fuller one across to Dino, who accepted graciously and sipped patiently at it while watching his new drinking partner over the rim.

After a while of silently staring into his glass, only taking a few drinks from it, Gokudera finally spoke up. "If I promised to sleep in my bed tonight, would you leave?" But that tone, that tone said what he was hiding, and Dino knew exactly what he meant.

"It's not easy being alone with your thoughts all night."

He scoffed again. "So you're here because you're lonely, and I was the only person stupid enough to give you the time of day?" And Dino wished he could magic that tone away, the self-deprecation, the hatred, and most of all the part that had almost convinced himself his words weren't just one big wall of denial.

He didn't have any magic for it, but he stood a bit anyway, enough to reach and plant a kiss on Gokudera's forehead. "Yeah, you're right. Is it working?" he asked, mischief in his voice absent.

He got a stare in response, an unreadable expression, before finally, "…maybe."

Dino smiled. Couldn't get that from a text message.


End file.
